Lost and found
by lostinprocrastination
Summary: The Witch is weakened, but what she manages to take is irreplaceable. Emma has found her way to heal...but so has Zelena. (My headcanon for the death CS aftermath)


**_For anyone reading, like I said on Tumblr, I'm THE WORST with titles and summaries, so please don't hold it against me. ;-)_**

* * *

It is a literal battlefield out there.

Sword blades and fire balls cut through the sky to fend off the flying monkeys' attacks, clearing the path for Regina to reach Zelena. She's sitting calmly and comfortably on a throne at the terrace of the Dark Castle overlooking it all, confident that her minions will finish them off before they even get close. To her right, the Dark One, Rumplestiltskin, commands the wretched creatures through his magic with a desolate expression that breaks Neal's heart. He knows his papa can't help it – the bitch has his dagger laying inside a glass case in her chambers, making him her slave.

But Regina has a plan – and so does he.

When they get close enough to the castle, the Queen conjures a fireball big enough to throw all the monkeys far away from them, and that's when she and Emma put their hands up to the sky and together produce a transparent shield that's impenetrable to the shrieking creatures. It keeps growing until it reaches the throne, engulfing the green menace but carefully leaving Rumple out. Regina had guaranteed them that without outside help her sister was no more powerful than she was, and as a group they could at the very least weaken her enough to give them time to figure out a way to get rid of her once and for all.

* * *

Nobody has any idea how long it took for them to have Zelena crawling back to the castle, pale, wounded, in pain and completely drained of her powers – a condition diagnosed by Blue with the help of the Black Fairy's wand. All they care is that they've just had their biggest victory in this war, and all they feel is elation and exhaustion, blocking their minds from further thought. Emma isn't yet in complete control of her magic, so her body's suffering the most, even more than Regina's. As she stumbles against a tree stump and starts falling, Hook comes to her side and gently steadies her by putting his arm around her waist. She's too tired for fears and walls and just leans her head against his shoulder and wraps her own arms around _his_ waist, letting his warmth guide her back to her parents' castle. He's in fact doing the same.

It's not until they cross the gates and she sees Henry's frown that she starts to realize what's happened.

"Wait…where's my dad?"

* * *

As soon as Emma and Regina started producing the shield, Neal looks around and sees the others all intently focused on the two women. He knows it's his chance and runs away from their magic's reach. With the bitch inside of it, Rumple is momentarily not under her control, but can't do anything to help his boy except open the gates as the dagger – and its dark magic – still _belong _to her.

"Bae!" He's almost crying as he holds his son tightly. "I can't believe you're here!"

"Yes, papa, and I'm gonna save you! Tell me where your dagger is so we can get it and get the hell out of here!"

"What are you talking about, son? You can't do this, she's gonna…she's gonna make me…"

"As soon as we get your dagger back she won't be able to make you do anything ever again, papa! Let's go while she's otherwise occupied, shall we?" His smile is bright and full of hope. "C'mon, papa, Belle is waiting!"

Rumple's face softens at the mention of her name, but he's still terrified as he pleads with his son. "Bae, please, she's gonna know it was you who released me and she's gonna come after you! You have no idea how much I'm treasuring these moments we're having right now, but please, you have to go!"

"And what, leave you here so she can continue to use you to destroy our land? To use you against us? Against _me_?"

Rumple's frown lets Neal know he's won the argument. "Either way she's coming for me…and I'd rather face it with my papa by my side. And all his powerful magic wouldn't hurt either."

Father and son allow themselves a moment to chuckle and hold each other. Soon enough Rumple comes back to reality, breaking their embrace and turning on his heels. "Well follow me then."

* * *

"Are you sure you're gonna be able to take the dagger, son?"

"Papa, please…you forget what used to be my line of work in the Land Without Magic? Piece of cake."

"Well, this isn't the Land Without Magic, Bae. I can't imagine it will be that easy."

"I'll have you know I've always been good at improvising!" With a grin, he approaches the cabinet upon which lies the dagger, his father's name engraved on the blade. He takes out his sword, forged from the same metal as Mulan's – the most powerful blade in all of the realms – and clashes it against the glass. It breaks instantly, and its content flies to Rumple's right hand as if it were a magnet.

"Well, I'd call that easy!"

"No, Bae, this isn't right…she wouldn't have left the dagger unprotected like that!"

"Okay, do something. Use your power."

As much as Rumple concentrates, nothing happens, and Neal's grin starts turning into a frown. "Do you think maybe this isn't the real dagger? That she has it somewhere else?"

"Oh no, son, this is the real thing…I can feel my power coming back to me, I can feel my control over it. This room is most likely protected against attacks, probably the entire castle."

"Alright, so we don't do anything, let's just go!"

"I don't know, Bae, this is all very suspicious…"

"Oh, c'mon, papa, now we're gonna get you out of here, we'll deal with the repercussions when they come, alright? Let's go!"

Still hesitant, Rumple just sighs and follows Neal out of the room and towards the castle's gates. He's sure there has to be a catch, but grows more confident with each step and decides that his son is right: whatever the consequences are, they'll deal with them when they come. In the meantime, he'll be free of Zelena's hold and reunited with the things he loves most. He'll have time with Belle and his dear boy.

Lost in thoughts of hope and happy endings, neither of them notices someone crawling in the shadows with great difficulty as they cross the great hall. Rumple is actually smiling as he sees Neal go through the gates and leave the castle.

And then he does – or rather _the dagger_ does. All he can hear is the sound of the shards of glass from the broken case flying at light speed from the witch's chambers, across the castle and into Neal's back. The man falls instantly to the ground with a whimper, and before Rumple can even scream his name he hears a laugh coming from inside. It's weak, but just as wicked as he'd gotten used to hear over the past couple of months, and sure enough its source manages to crawl to a spot where he can see her evil grin from where he stands, tending to his son's lifeless body.

"You…you MONSTER! What did you do to my son?"

"Rumple, Rumple, Rumple…this was a simple spell meant to deal with common thieves…how should I know that was all your progeny ever amounted to?"

With pure hate in his eyes, he conjures the strongest, deadliest attack he can and throws it directly at her, but once his magic reaches the castle gates it simply disappears and she grins. "Oh I _know_ you know I'm protected in here…nothing can harm me while I'm inside, _dearie_!"

If Rumple's senses weren't clouded by anger and grief and loss and complete despair, he would have noticed the pain it causes Zelena to laugh, but she still does because she's weak and she's lost the power of the Dark One, but she'll be _damned_ if she'll lose the upper hand. Realizing there is no point in standing there hearing her taunting him with his dead son in his arms, he holds him close and disappears into black smoke.

Zelena's still smirking.

* * *

As soon as Henry asks about his father, they hear Belle's horrified scream from the library, where she's been studying and translating to help the fight against the wicked witch ever since they got back to the Enchanted Forest. Emma's mind immediately blocks her exhaustion as she rushes up the stairs, followed by Hook, her son and her parents. What they see is heartbreaking, as Belle desperately cries and holds an utterly broken Rumplestiltskin, bloody hands and clothes, unable to let go of Neal's limp body.

"…dad?"

And just like that Henry becomes the fourth figure of that heartbreaking tableau, holding his father across from Rumplestiltskin. Among the _deafening_ gasps of anger and shock, two people are silent and still, unable to even begin to rationalize what's going on. After what seems like an eternity, it finally dawns on them: _Neal is dead. Baelfire is dead._ In that moment, Emma instinctively reaches out to the one other person she knows this is affecting the most apart from the three grieving on the floor and Hook lets her guide him out of the room. They look at each other for a moment and are welcomed into each other's arms as their tears fall unrestrained.

* * *

Over the next day, Emma deals with the tragedy of Neal's loss the only way she knows how: by shielding her emotions with work. Never before has she embraced her savior role as thoroughly and willingly, organizing the efforts to find a way to deal with Zelena once and for all while she's still weakened in all fronts: the theoretical, led by Belle, the physical battle, led by her father and Robin Hood, and the magical, led by Regina. Rumplestiltskin, while still devastated, is quite helpful in aiding the Queen in teaching Emma to control her magic more precisely.

The one thing she can't do herself is organize Neal's funeral, because they are in the Enchanted Forest and truth be told she still has no idea how most things work there, let alone _this_, so she reluctantly lets her mother take over following a _very public_ discussion. She sighs in relief when Hook notices her distress and offers to help Snow – that way she knows she won't make an _event _out of it. It will just be a respectful way to say goodbye to a friend and ally.

Speaking of the pirate, he is always nearby, ready to offer her whatever it is she needs at any particular time, be it a kind or encouraging word, a shoulder to cry on or a hand to hold, always letting her seek him out rather than the other way around, which becomes more and more frequent each passing moment, it seems. Every now and then she feels a pang of guilt in her chest, fearing he may feel she's only using him, but quickly shoots these thoughts down with one look in his loving eyes that tell her that she's not dealing with Neal's death and that crazy green bitch's attacks and Pan and Cora and let's be honest, her _life_ by burying herself in work. She does it by being near her son and her parents and her friends and her…her Hook. And she knows she's his rock as much as he is hers.

* * *

Neal's funeral is a very understated and beautiful affair. Gathered around his body in a circle, everybody watches as Rumple conjures a flame that turns him into ash in the exact time it takes for him and for Henry to say a few words. There's an awkward pause when the boy finishes and the group turns to Emma, who looks positively _panicked_, which Hook notices and so promptly takes a step forward to shift the focus away from her. Truth be told, he would indeed like to say something about the son of a woman he once loved so dearly, a boy he would have loved to call _family_ all those years ago, but decides against it out of respect for his father. Rumplestiltskin. The crocodile. Who knew. It doesn't really matter anyway – he's already shared all he could ever say about this and so many other things with the one person who truly cares. Besides, as he takes back the step he'd taken forward mere seconds ago, he sees all heads turning from Emma to him and he smiles inwardly for a job well done. He watches as Rumplestiltskin solemnly gathers his son's ashes into a small urn and dismisses everyone, quickly stealing a glance at the savior who takes advantage of this moment to mouth him a _thank you_.

* * *

The monkeys attack the village outside the palace the next morning.

It is a silent attack; their characteristic shrieks, which can usually be heard miles away, gone, as if their vocal chords had been magically silenced. The entire village is taken down, not one survivor left to tell the story, and the group only realizes it has even happened when Archie leaves the palace grounds with Pongo to search for Marco, who had gone to the village market for supplies hours earlier. They only recognize it as a monkey attack because of the fur and claws they left behind with the bodies.

Not even 24 hours after they buried Neal, they lose another one of their own and the lives of many others.

Before Snow can even reach Archie to plan a second funeral, Regina stops them. "She's getting stronger again. We can't stop our preparations, I'm sorry. We need to move. Archie, I can produce an urn with his ashes right now if you'd like."

"No, Regina, this is too cruel, Marco needs a proper goodbye!" Regina would have snickered at Snow's horrified expression if the situation weren't so dire.

"That's okay, Snow, she's right", Archie concedes with a sigh. "If you'd please, Regina…I'll just place the urn in my chambers and get back to work with Belle."

"Of course."

* * *

Dinner that evening is a grim affair. Between the grief over Neal and Marco – _Bae and Gepetto_ – and the tension from Zelena's imminent return to form, it's as if hope has all but left everyone's hearts. Hook sits beside Emma, expecting their usual exchange of reassuring glances and the feel of her warm hand over his under the table, but she can't bring herself to look at him even once. She finishes her plate before anyone else and immediately excuses herself from the table and the room. "She's just distressed from everything, she'll be better in the morning", answers Snow to the inquiring glances across the table, but Hook hasn't taken his eyes off her up until she left so he knows _distressed_ is far from the best word to describe her. She didn't give him a chance to look into her eyes, but from what he could see she looked determined. Fiercely so.

* * *

Something tells him she hasn't gone up to her chambers so he doesn't even bother looking for her there; he _knows_ she knows better than to go against the green bitch unprepared, as she told him herself in so many words so many times before. Henry? Well, if she sought out her lad he knows not to intrude. They'd become rather close since he'd brought them back from their blissfully ignorant lives in the Land Without Magic, but it's not his place to interrupt or participate in intimate conversations between him and his mother concerning such grave matters as they've been forced to deal with over the past few days, especially about his deceased father as he suspected was most likely the case.

He finally comes to the conclusion that if Emma wants to let him know what she was thinking and what she did after dinner she will. However, even if he isn't too worried over it, he's still cold and lonely from their lack of contact, so instead of going up the stairs to his ample chambers he goes straight to the docks right outside the palace and boards his girl, quickly making his way to the captain's quarters only to find its door slightly ajar. _Of course_. He's chuckling even before he hears Emma's half-annoyed, half-amused voice. "Took you long enough."

He should have known. Each time she had any kind of realization or issue to discuss with him that she didn't feel like sharing with anyone else she'd wait for him on his ship. Even if by now everyone knows not to invade their space whenever they move a little away from the group or are randomly in seemingly deep conversation, that's their ritual. She shoots him a look that says _You. Me. Roger. Now._ and disappears into the background only to see him follow a couple of minutes later.

"Well you did not signal me tonight, love. In fact, you barely even looked at me, so I figured you'd want to be left alone with your thoughts or…"

Emma looks at him apprehensively for a few moments, afraid to see some kind of hurt in his eyes. Instead, all they show is understanding, and maybe a bit of resignation. _Oh, Hook._ Always respecting her wishes and giving her space without complaint. Her heart grows three sizes inside her chest and she can't help but smile tenderly at him. "And _at least_ since you brought us back from New York when have I _ever_ wanted to be left alone by you?"

It's something they both know but had never vocalized, and the fact that it's Emma that does it – in such a free, vulnerable, matter-of-fact way, no less – causes Hook's breath to catch in his throat. He still has no idea what Emma can possibly want to talk to him about in this particular situation, but this exchange alone is filling him with such life and hope he desperately searches his mind for something to tell her that will keep this going. Ultimately all he can come up with is "I just figured you'd sought a conversation I would have no place in, darling."

And it dawns on her. "Henry."

"Given the goings-on over the past few days, does that surprise you?"

"Of course." Another smile illuminates her whole face. "That wasn't quite the case, but still…thank you for that. I know people's intentions are good," and by people she mostly means her mother, who is she kidding, "but sometimes kids need privacy to be talked to. Too many people can suffocate them and make them feel even worse." The kids, the parent, who's even keeping count. And then all of a sudden her expression changes and her look turns inquisitive. "But you still knew to come here."

"Not quite, love" he confesses. "I just…felt I'd be more comfortable spending tonight at the place that most resembled a sort of home to me for the vast majority of my many years on in this world."

The answer is exactly what she needs to renew her resolve and finally do what she's there to do, not before releasing a hearty laugh.

"What's so funny, Swan?"

She chooses to ignore his question and just starts. "You always lose people when you fight wars, and it sucks, and it's sad, but somehow even with everything we've ever been through ever since Regina's curse was broken our core group seems to remain unscathed, or at least did until four days ago."

He looks at her with the full knowledge that she's purposefully leaving out the time before she _believed_ because he knows how much the huntsman's death affected and still affects her – not for nothing she had chosen to share that story with him before they all left Storybrooke. He also knows, however, that the circumstances of his demise were quite particular and that Emma has been long done with thinking about Regina as purely heartless and evil, so he doesn't say anything and just nods.

"Over the last ninety-six hours we've lost not only Neal but Marco, and never before I had I really thought about how frail life is, how it can end in an instant." A single tear falls down her left cheek and he reaches out his hand to wipe it, but she stops him and allows herself a moment of self-pity. "Don't, please…someone who has witnessed so much death and only realizes how real and menacing it is when it happens to people they care about doesn't deserve to be comforted. Not for this."

"That doesn't mean you're a bad person, love, only that you're human. As with this or any other situation, you're never that greatly affected if you're not emotionally invested."

And there it is. The truth that accompanied both of them for most of their lives, the one that had them build such high and seemingly impenetrable walls around their hearts. Walls that were torn down brick by brick until the person in front of them wormed their way in and took permanent residence. _You and I, we understand each other._

She smiles in gratitude for his lack of judgment and continues. "Life can end in an instant, just like that. Our lives. All it takes is one moment of distraction, a foolish attempt to be a hero, a surprise attack when all you expect is a moment of peace."

She looks up at him and his eyes urge her to continue. "I used to think that allowing myself happiness and good moments in the middle of such dire times meant not only foolishly and dangerously letting my guard down but also that it was useless because how could I ever be truly happy unless I lived in peace, you know? In an established, long-term…permanent peaceful environment."

Hook can feel where this is going yet doesn't dare to even form the thought in his mind. He can only hope all the emotion radiating through his eyes don't scare her off.

"But I _don't_ live in peace, you know, and I don't know if that will ever happen. I'm the Savior, with a capital _S_, and my life will likely _always_ be in turmoil. So, well, I have to make do with what I'm given, and find my happiness in the good moments that happen to pop up in the midst of my everyday struggles," and with that her hand reaches out to squeeze his, which he immediately reciprocates, "which without even realizing I guess I have been doing for a while."

Without ever letting go of his hand, she looks up at him, his mind racing and his breath heavy and erratic, mirroring her state. "But that's not enough. Any of us can go at any minute and it's not fair that this happens before I have the chance to look at the people I love and tell them all I feel." She inches closer to him. "Before I tell them how much I appreciate them being in my life." Even closer. "How the way they always respect me and put my needs before their own warms my heart and scares me in equal measure because it's something I grew up thinking was impossible." Now it's his turn to take a step forward and wrap his hooked arm around her waist, resting the attachment on the small of her back. "How much their eyes and their touch and just their presence give me _everything_ I need to go on fighting." He untangles their fingers to cup her cheek, and she wraps her arms around his neck. "How empowered and important and just _happy_ I feel to know that I have the same effect on them." Their foreheads are touching and he _knows_ how much of an effort it took her not only to tell him all of this, but to even come to this realization. She's _drained_, but still tries to finish. "I didn't seek you out at dinner tonight because I couldn't risk any of this to come out in front of everyone else but you know what? I don't wanna hide anymore, Hook, I _can't_ hide anymore. I…I…"

Oh, but he knows. He's always known, but now more than ever, and this time he's the one to close the little space still between them and find her lips with his. It's an intense kiss, but unlike Neverland it's slow and tender, with all of their unspoken words and feelings over the two years since that fateful climb up Anton's beanstalk pouring into one another. It's all they could ever need for the rest of their lives, on their feet and leaning only on each other in the middle of the moonlit captain's quarters of the Jolly Roger, until it isn't. At a point neither of them can precise, they start taking a couple of steps together until they fall on the bed, their lips still connected.

* * *

He rolls off her to lay on his back so they can both get off their highs and catch their breaths. For all his fascination with her hair, he chuckles at the way she lazily caresses his own at the nape of his neck. As she moves towards him to wrap her arm around his waist and rest her head on his chest, she's suddenly reminded of a question of his from many hours ago she still hasn't answered.

"That night when you all came back to the Enchanted Forest with Regina on the ship following Zelena and Blue and I stayed behind to cast a protection spell over Storybrooke?"

"Aye?"

She shrugs against his chest. "The only way I could get myself to sleep was to spend the night in my bug."

He immediately understands, and laughs loudly and heartily and still has the brightest, most beautiful smile Emma's ever seen when he locks eyes with her.

"I love you, Emma Swan."

"I love you, Killian Jones."

Neither of them had ever before fallen so quickly into such an easy and refreshing sleep.

* * *

Zelena is still quite weak, but she's been steadily getting her powers back. She's lost control over the Dark One and she's received a near-fatal blow which prevented her from using magic for more than three full days, but instead of anger and shame she's filled with strategies and plans of attack. It was Emma – not Regina – who had produced the mind-blowingly strong wave of energy and magic that temporarily defeated her when she foolishly threw green fireballs at her left side, clearly underestimating both the Swan girl's power and affections. But no more.

She kicks herself for a second for never paying much attention to anyone save for the blonde and the brunette, the ones who had magic, so she can't tell who it was that Emma was so fiercely protecting. Looking to get some intel, she finally gets her crystal ball to work and is positively giddy when she realizes she has access to the Charmings' palace now that she's managed to place something of her own inside its defenses: the glass fragments that are mixed with Neal's ashes inside the urn safely placed on Rumple's nightstand inside his and Belle's chambers. Maybe losing him wasn't so bad after all.

The crystal ball conjures images from inside the entire palace. She feels quite satisfied in realizing all of them have tense looks on their faces to some degree even in their sleep – all but Emma, who's not in her chambers or anywhere else…and neither is that handsome leather-clad pirate, for that matter. _Bingo_.

"Show her to me," she commands, and the ball runs from the palace to the docks to the inside of the ship to the bed in the captain's quarters. It's almost dawn, and unlike the people in the palace they are both sleeping with smiles on their faces, arms lazily wrapped around each other, oblivious to the fact that they're being spied on by their enemy. There's no way to describe Zelena's smile other than, well, _wicked_, as she feels her strength and confidence come back to her all at once.

"Oh I'll get you, _Savior_…and your little pirate too."


End file.
